The Most Wonderful World
by BearPants
Summary: The struggle of the muggle-raised boy-who-lived in the wizarding world, and his journey to self discovery with his homosexual feelings towards his ginger friend.
1. The Most Wonderful Word

"Yer a wizard, Harry." Hagrid had said. To this day, 'wizard' was the most wonderful word Harry had ever heard. It meant he had a future, friends, family, a life full of magic which he'd never until then dreamed of.

That year was the beginning of his schooling at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was the year he defeated Voldemort and found friends in Hermione and Ron.

Now it was the dawn of another year at Hogwarts. Harry sat in the cabin of the Hogwarts Express, listening to his friends Ron and Hermione talk about famous historical wizards of which Harry knew nothing about. Ron talked animatedly about the historic figure, his red hair tossing around him as he shook his head, disagreeing with Hermione. Harry's mind began to wander.

Supple lips began to caress his skin, making their way to his exposed and throbbing member. Harry's head lulled to the side as the lips surrounded his shaft and the tongue swirled around the tip of him, making his toes curl.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione's voice cut through his daydream.

"Huh?" Harry replied, snapping back to reality.

"You were moaning, mate. Stomach ache?" Ron asked, concerned.

"Yeah." Harry said hastily. "A stomach ache."

"Go see the nurse right away when we get there so she can take care of it." Hermione said.

"Don't worry I'll take care of it." Harry promised.

When they reached the station, Harry let out a sigh of relief. Harry couldn't even think with Ron and Hermione doting upon him, let alone continue his daydreaming.

When they reached the castle, Harry took a right when others took a left. "I'm heading to the nurse," He told Ron and Hermione, leaving before they could say a word.

"Isn't the nurse the other way?" Ron asked Hermione, who shrugged.

Harry hurried along the corridors until he finally reached his destination. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It was perfect for him. No one ever came near the bathroom, giving him peace and quiet.

Once inside, Harry went over to one of the sinks and washed his face. The cool water seemed to help, but it didn't wash away the heat beneath his skin. Harry shook his head. There was no helping it now.

Unbuttoning his pants, he unleashed his throbbing member. It pulsed in his hand, as if anticipating Harry's next move. Harry began to stroke himself, first slowly then faster and faster, as letting out his sexual frustration. He looked at himself in the mirror, into his eyes as he jerked at himself, watching himself smooth his hand over his member over and over again. Harry bit his lip. The pressure was building.

Suddenly, Myrtle giggled from behind him. Harry gave a start, but he had expected as much. Every time he snuck away to the bathroom the previous year, she would find him sooner or later with his pants down.

"My, you just got back. Come to visit me so soon? I see you… missed me."

Harry said nothing, and continued to stroke himself. He turned back to the mirror and watched once more as he pleasured himself. Myrtle was in the background, giggling and smiling widely. She slowly removed her ghostly shirt, revealing a frilled bra covering supple deathly breasts. Harry immediately stopped in his stroking, having noticed Myrtle's nakedness.

"Please, Myrtle, you know that only distracts me." Harry said.

"Oh come now. Sometimes I wonder if you even like me at all." Myrtle said in a huff.

Harry frowned and gripped himself tighter. He began to jerk himself faster, harder. "I like you, Myrtle." Harry said, attempting to keep her from sobbing. That always ruined the mood. "See? Look how much I like you."

Harry was thinking of everyone but Myrtle as he played with himself. He felt the pressure build again and finally he could take it no longer. The pressure burst and overflowed, sending waves of pleasure through his body. White seed flowed out of him, spreading on the sink in front of him and on the mirror. Harry looked at himself through the seed-stained mirror and smirked. His load was everywhere.

"Oh my, that sure was a lot." Myrtle said, coming over to examine the mess.

"Shut up, Myrtle." Harry said, looking away from the mirror. He placed his still hard member in his pants and positioned it to hide it from sight.

He turned on his heel and left Myrtle to her sobs. Exiting the bathroom, he looked around for any sign of someone being near. All was silent. It seemed his mischief had been managed just when Hagrid turned around the corner.

"Harry!" Hagrid bellowed. "What're you doin' up here? Thought Ron an' Hermione told me you were goin' to the nurse."

Harry's body shivered at the sight of Hagrid. His booming voice cut straight through him and made his bones rattle. If he'd been ten seconds slower, Hagrid would have found him.

"I had to use the bathroom on my way back to supper. Shall we go then?" Harry said, averting his eyes from Hagrid's.

Hagrid smiled almost knowingly. He patted Harry on the back. "Alrigh', Harry. Feel better?"

"Loads." Harry said, hiding a smile.

After supper, Ron, Hermione, and Harry headed to the common room. Once past the Fat Lady, they plopped themselves down on the couch in front of the fireplace. They stayed up half the night talking and catching up.

When the hour got too late, Hermione headed to bed, leaving just Ron and Harry.

"So where'd you really head off to earlier?" Ron asked, eyeing Harry.

"The nurse," Harry lied, averting his gaze.

"Yeah right. That's a load of bull and you know it." Ron sat closer and lowered his voice. "Come on, you can tell me." He poked at Harry's side.

Harry felt a surge of heat flow through him to his crotch. Great, he thought. He knew after myrtle interrupting him, it wouldn't satisfy him. Whenever the female ghost said anything to him, it always ruined it.

"I'm being honest." Harry lied again. He shifted in his seat.

Ron frowned. "Don't lie to me!" He began to tickle Harry, and Harry wouldn't have it. He stood up, angry. He rounded on Ron to pick a fight, but immediately regretted it. The bulge of his crotch was now square with Ron's face.

Ron's eyes grew wide and he looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry, mate. Guess that answers the question."

Harry nearly cried out in embarrassment. He bit his lip and grabbed a throw pillow to hide his erection. Without another word, he ran up the stairs to hide in his bed until morning. He drew the curtains around his bed and sat in the darkness, wide awake, for hours. He heard Ron come to bed shortly after him, but Ron made no attempt to speak with him.

It was a long night.

The next morning, Ron avoided him. Hermione begged of him why, but he could give no answer. At breakfast, Ron was missing. Hermione and Harry sat together as Harry attempted to steer the conversation away from Ron.

"Come on, Harry. Just tell me what happened last night. What are you fighting about?" Hermione asked, attempting once again.

Harry had had enough of it. He stood up and walked away angrily. He was lost in thought about Ron, and continued walking, not caring where his feet carried him. Soon, he found himself back in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He sighed.

He went to a sink and looked at himself in the mirror again. His unkempt hair was even messier than usual, for lack of sleep. His eyes were dark and glazed.

His mind wandered to Ron. The embarrassed, even hurt look on his face at the sight of Harry's bulge came to his mind. He'd never wanted for Ron to see something like that, but if he was honest with himself, it had only been a matter of time. Harry found himself always having the misfortune to get a random erection when he was with his ginger friend, something that bothered Harry immensely.

The bulge in his pants now grew bigger the longer he thought about it. He moaned and withdrew himself from his pants. Just a quick one, he thought. Just to take the edge off.

Harry began to stroke himself and closed his eyes. He thought of everything that happened yesterday. Hagrid finding him, seeming to know, and Ron seeing his bulge, hurt and embarrassed. "Ron," Harry mumbled, jerking at himself. His pants fell lower as he lost himself to his pleasuring. His buttocks flexed as he began to thrust into his palm, imagining more than just his hand. "Ron," He repeated.

There was a gasp behind him. Harry turned, fully prepared to deal with Myrtle again, but was instead confronted with Hermione. He stood facing her, his cock still erect, his hand still absently stroking it, his pants around his ankles.

"Hermione, I… can explain." Harry swallowed hard. He then rushed to put his pants back on as Hermione ran from him.

He ran after, finally catching her in an abandoned hallway. He grabbed her wrist and flung her around, pressing her against the wall. "Please, don't tell anyone." Harry breathed.

"Like Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Well, yeah." Harry answered, confused as to why she brought him up specifically. "Why?"

"You were talking about him."

Harry gasped and let Hermione go. Apparently he had been talking about Ron unknowingly. Why, though? Was it just what happened that had Ron swimming through his mind, or something else?

"I don't know what to say." Harry said finally. "Just don't tell anyone, right?"

Hermione swallowed and nodded, tears in her eyes.

Harry left her, his heart racing. What was happening to him?

The days passed and Ron still avoided Harry. Hermione tried to pretend nothing happened, and so she and Harry usually sat in awkward silences. They sat up late working on homework one night when finally she announced she was retiring to bed.

After she'd gone, Harry gave up the pretense that he was working and sank back into the couch, his mind on other things. He stared into the fire, his mind wandering.

What was Ron feeling, in all this? Embarrassed, no doubt. Should I just apologize? Tell him it'll never happen again? Was he even thinking of me?

Harry felt the familiar rush of blood to his pelvic region and he sighed. Nothing he did lately satisfied his lust. He continued to think, absently scratching his throbbing area. His scratching turned into stroking.

The sound of the Fat Lady closing behind him startled him back to the present. He glanced around to see Ron watching him, an embarrassed, almost horrified look upon his face. When their eyes met, Ron shook his head violently and began walking toward the room. Harry leapt from the cough and grabbed Ron's arm, yanking him backward.

"Please, just let me explain!" Harry begged. "I don't want you to keep avoiding me."

"Nothing to explain, Harry. It's pretty obvious." Ron tugged his arm back from Harry's grasp. "Just… do it somewhere else. Go find a girlfriend to do that with or something."

"Ron, please." Harry begged.

Ron turned his head and walked away. Harry's heart sunk when Ron closed the door to the room, shutting Harry out.

What's wrong with me? Harry thought, pleading with himself for the answer.

Harry decided it was about time he visited Hagrid.

Wrapping the cloak of invisibility tightly around him, Harry snuck through the castle and down the grounds toward the big man's hut. When he reached the door, he was confronted with a foul stench of something cooking. Harry knocked.

"Who's there?" Hagrid asked before opening the large door.

"It's me, Hagrid. Harry. I need your advice." Harry took off the cloak and began to fold it up.

"Harry!" Hagrid bounded for the door and whipped it open on its rusty hinges. He reached out and gripped Harry tightly, flinging him into his arms. "What brings yeh here this time o' night?"

"It's complicated, Hagrid. Mind if I step in?"

"Of course." Hagrid made way for Harry to come in, and went to his stew pot to stir whatever awful thing he was making. "What's bothering' ya, Harry?"

Harry began recounting what had happened to him over the past few weeks and how for whatever reason, he had the misfortune that it was always Ron who it happened around.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." Harry said finally. His head fell into his palms, his messy black hair askew.

"I know yer problem." Hagrid said, coming to the table to sit across from him.

"You do? How do I fix it?" Harry asked.

"Yer a faggot, Harry." Hagrid announced.

It was the most wonderful word he'd ever heard. It meant that everything he went through made sense, that he wasn't messed up in the head like he thought. It meant he had a full future ahead of him, full of sexual experiences to feed his appetite of which he'd never until then dreamed of.

Harry's eyes widened. Could it be true? It would explain everything. It would explain his daydreams, his aversion to women taking their clothes off, and his erections whenever Ron happened to be nearby. Was he in fact… attracted to Ron? Did he want the ginger boy to touch him the way he touched himself? Harry searched within himself, but he already knew the answer.

Harry was a faggot.

6


	2. The Most Wonderful Kiss

The Most Wonderful Kiss

The new information about himself swirled in his head as he walked back to the castle that night. That most important night. He felt his head throb, his breath tight in his chest. Everything made so much sense now. He was a faggot.

He was most assuredly gay, or at least bisexual. The only problem now wasn't what was wrong with him, but how to explain it to Hermione, or Ron.

Ron.

Harry groaned with defeat. There was no way he could tell them. They wouldn't understand, least of all Hermione. Hagrid seemed to be the only one who understood and accepted that part of him.

Suddenly it dawned on Harry that he'd been so wrapped up in himself that he hadn't considered why Hagrid understood so well. He thought of the big man living alone on the school grounds, never showing any interest in a woman, with the exception of Madame Maxime. Even she looked manly, her big muscular arms and her height. Perhaps Hagrid knew Harry's struggle more than he let on.

As Harry reached the Fat Lady, he decided he had more important matters to figure out. The most important of which was what to tell his friends. Most important how to tell them.

At length he decided to wait until he figured it out. Until then, he'd pretend everything was normal. Everything was just fine.

The next day, Harry awoke feeling like a new man. He stretched out his tight muscles and felt the knots in his shoulders loosen. It was going to be a good day.

At breakfast, Harry saw his friends sitting together at the Griffindor table. He sat down and grabbed some food and smiled at both of them widely.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Ron asked sullenly, still awkward around him.

"It's just a good day." Harry explained, biting into a muffin.

"Any particular reason?" Hermione asked, looking up from the book she was studying while she ate.

Harry shrugged. "Just a good day."

Hermione smiled back. "It's because of the Quiddich tournament today, right? You'll kick the Slytherin's butts."

"They'll be Slytherin back to their dungeon." Harry joked. His heart lifted when he saw Ron relax and smile at his joke.

Ron shook his head. "That was a horrible joke, Harry. I have half a mind to sock you."

They laughed until it was time for Harry to run down to the stadium. Truthfully, he'd forgotten all about the tournament today. It was a good day for every other reason. Knowing he was about to go head to head with Malfoy and send him crying to his father? That made the day all the better.

Harry walked into the locker rooms and flung open the door. What he saw inside was something he had been used to, but not anymore. Not since figuring out his secret. The Quiddich players walked around, damp from their showers, their towels wrapped precariously on their sculpted hips. He shook his head and looked away, only to see a few teammates exit the shower completely nude.

It was nearly too much. He walked quickly to the lou stall and closed the door. He wiped the sweat from his brow and readjusted himself. The familiar burning at his loins aggravated him now. At least he knew why it was happening, but he needed to get control of himself. His body was raging out of control.

He looked at his watch and realized there wasn't much time to get control of himself. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of something that would make the burning go away. He tried everything from Moaning Myrtle's breasts to inanimate objects. Nothing was working. Instead of helping, his mind wandered to Ron, and the fantasy of Ron naked popped into his mind.

His throbbing member pulsed harder. Dammit, what was wrong with him! He was supposed to be on the field in less than ten minutes!

Without a second thought, Harry unzipped his hands and whipped out his rock hard shaft. He beat at himself vigorously, the fantasy of Ron running wild. Ron was standing in front of him, naked, his ivory skin looking so soft and beautifully freckled.

Ron reached out and grabbed around Harry's waist and pulled him close. Before Harry realized where his mind was headed, Ron's lips were upon his. Harry felt the pressure building in him and he threw his head back in anticipation for the pleasure.

There was a hard knock at the door.

"Potter, we got five minutes. Get out here!"

Harry opened his eyes and realized where he was. He looked down at his rock hard cock and sighed. There was no way he could finish in time. He placed himself in his pants and shifted it around so it was comfortable. The tip throbbed against his stomach.

After he hastily got dressed in his seeker's uniform, he grabbed his broom and ran to join the others. The horns in the stadium blared and Harry walked out with the Gryffindor team.

The match was about like he'd expected it to be. The cheering, the noise, the honking of horns and clapping of hands. What wasn't expected was how Harry felt when he looked down at the Gryffindor tower to see Ron's ginger hair among all the others. His throat closed up and he swallowed hard.

"What's the matter, Potter?" He heard Malfoy called as he passed by. "Given up?"

Harry shook his head. "Not yet I haven't." Harry muttered. He turned back toward the game, and faced Malfoy.

Malfoy sneered. "Just waving at your friends? The mudblood and the blood traitor?" Malfoy laughed. "Useless."

Harry's temper boiled. "Don't call them that."

"Call them what? Useless? Or call them mudblood and blood traitor?"

Without thinking, Harry shot his broom forward and knocked into Malfoy, causing Malfoy to lose his balance. He fell over and lost his grip. Just one hand was reached out gripping hold of the broomstick. Harry was inwardly impressed with Malfoy's upper body strength.

Harry considered helping Malfoy before he fell, but would Malfoy have done the same? No, Malfoy would just leave him to go find the snitch. Why should he help the Slytherin now?

Harry looked at Malfoy's scared face. His platinum blonde hair was bright in the sunlight, and his wide eyes sparkled brilliantly with his unshed tears. He was really just a scared bully. Harry sighed and flew over to Malfoy.

Extending a hand, Harry said, "Take my hand, Malfoy."

Malfoy looked up at him, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of falling to his death or taking Harry's offered hand.

At length, Malfoy reached up and took Harry's hand. Harry helped him back up to his broom. After Malfoy was perched on his broom again, Harry gave him a small smile, and zoomed off after the snitch.

Gryffindor won the match by a landslide.

After the match, Harry was back in the locker room. He held himself up in the stall, waiting for all the half-naked or naked men to leave so he could take a shower. He was afraid that if he did so with the others around, he wouldn't be able to stop his libido from going out of control again. He had decided that it would be best to avoid other guys until he could gain control of himself.

When the last guy left and the door shut behind him, Harry exited the stall and made his way to the showers. He took off his Quiddich clothes, letting them fall to the ground. He looked in a nearby body length mirror at his naked body. He had tufts of hair on his chest and a dark happy trail leading from his belly button right down to his penis.

A question came into his mind, one that he hadn't really thought of before. Is my penis small, big, or average? He looked at himself longer in the mirror and shrugged. Until recently, he'd always avoided looking at other men, so he had no basis for knowing.

The showers were still warm and steamy from the other showers. Harry turned on the faucet and the warm water began flowing onto him. He tossed his head back and let the water cover him. He was all alone. Nothing and no one there except his thoughts.

His mind wandered back to the fantasy he'd had before the match. Ron naked, pressing his lips against his. His fantasy went further, with Ron tossing him onto a bed and shoving his face in-between Harry's legs.

"What the hell are you doing?" A voice asked.

Harry opened his eyes and immediately hid his rock hard cock from whoever was speaking. He looked around the steamy room, and at first he didn't even see who had spoken.

That's when Malfoy stepped forward.

"What are you doing in our locker room to begin with?" Harry asked, his voice shrill.

Malfoy smirked. "Came to beat you up." He shrugged. "Looks like you're beating yourself up."

Harry flushed with embarrassment. "What does it matter?" Why the hell do you want to beat me up anyway?" Malfoy walked forward through the mists of the shower and Harry realized that Malfoy was naked, too. "And why aren't you wearing clothes?"

"You really expected me to walk into the shower to find you and get my clothes all wet?"

Harry looked away from him, his cheeks still hot from embarrassment, and perhaps because of Malfoy's nakedness. "Why do you want to beat me up, anyway? What did I do? I saved you out there, didn't I?"

Malfoy smirked. Harry didn't see it, but he could feel Malfoy's smirk from behind him. "You made me look like a fool, Potter. You embarrassed me."

"I saved your life." Harry replied, turning back to Malfoy.

Draco walked forward until the water of the shower was flowing over him too. "You embarrassed me, and now I'm going to embarrass you." He reached out and grabbed Harry's neck, throwing him back into the tiled wall.

Harry hit his head, and became dizzy. The heat and steam of the shower was swirling all around him. Before he could react, Malfoy was on him. He reached out and grabbed onto Harry's still hard cock. Harry gasped.

"What are you doing?" Harry demanded, his voice barely a whisper.

Malfoy smirked. "Get on your knees." When Harry didn't obey, Malfoy reached out and grabbed Harry's hair, twisting so that tears of pain were in the edges of his eyes. "On your knees."

Harry obeyed. He got on his knees and the hard tile of the shower hurt ground against his kneecaps. He looked up and realized that Malfoy's penis was right in front of him. Malfoy grinned. "Put it in your mouth."

Harry gasped. "No, Malfoy! You're disgusting!"

Malfoy laughed. "If you don't, I'll tell everyone you came on to me."

Harry thought about it. Not many others would believe the wild tale, but Hermione and Ron might. Especially after last time.

Harry groaned. He felt he had no choice. He couldn't stand Ron looking at him like a monster. He leaned forward and timidly wrapped his mouth around Malfoy's growing member. It became thicker once in his mouth until it was rock hard. Harry closed his eyes and pretended it was someone else. Anyone else. Ron.

He moved his mouth down the shaft and back, caressing the shaft with his tongue. Malfoy grabbed Harry's head and began to thrust into his mouth. When his cock was buried deep in Harry's mouth, Harry's saliva dripped from the union onto the wet shower floor. Draco thrust harder and harder while gripping Harry's head in his strong hands. Harry couldn't escape him if he tried.

Tears streaked down Harry's cheeks at the humiliation of it all. He wanted nothing more than to be in the dorm, wrapped up in his blankets and spend the rest of eternity there. Instead, he was being molested by Malfoy, alone, with no one to save him.

Suddenly, Malfoy reached the height of his pleasure by coming into Harry's mouth. He gripped Harry's skull tighter, not allowing him to escape the hot seed flowing into his throat.

When he was finished coming, Malfoy withdrew his still hard cock from Harry's mouth and let his head go. Harry choked and gasped. He fell forward onto his hands and wiped his mouth over and over, as if he could wipe away what had just happened.

Before Harry knew what had happened, Malfoy was behind him on his knees. He reached spit into his hands and reached up to Harry's tight anus. He began to circle his wet index finger around the hole.

"Stop it, Malfoy! I don't want this!" Harry begged. "I don't want any of this!"

"And what do you want, Potter?" Draco asked. "You want the blood traitor ginger boy, don't you?" He sneered again. "You would choose him again, just like the first day of our first year. You want Weasley, don't you?" Malfoy demanded to know. He was angry now, and shoved his wet finger into Harry's rectum.

Harry gasped and sobbed. "Yes! I want Ron!" He admitted. "Now stop!"

"Not a chance." Malfoy said angrily, thrusting his fingers in and out of Harry's hole. The pain was nearly unbearable. Malfoy was anything but gentle in his touch, and made Harry feel as though he was ripping him apart. Malfoy reached out with his free hand and yanked at Harry's half-hard penis.

Harry sobbed harder. "Stop! Please, Malfoy, stop!"

"You heard him!" Someone yelled through the steam of the shower room. Harry glanced up but could see no one through the steam and the tears in his eyes. That's when Ron appeared in his vision. "Malfoy, get the hell out of here!" Ron pointed his wand at Malfoy's face. "Get out of here, right now."

Malfoy scrambled to get up and then ran from the room. Ron followed after him, disappearing in the steam again. Harry closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool tiles on the ground. His body was weak, and he lay down, having no will to get up.

Ron returned moments later and turned off the shower. He had a towel in his arms and put it over Harry's shivering body. Harry was shivering but not from cold. Ron wrapped his arms around his friend and gave him a hug. It was rare of Ron to show affection like that toward Harry, but there were the special occasions that Harry really needed it, like now. He needed his ginger friend.

Ron held Harry in his arms. Sobs began to wrack Harry's body as the emotion overtook him. Malfoy had done exactly what he set out to do – he humiliated Harry, perhaps beyond repair.

"I'm sorry, Ron." Harry managed to say.

"No, I'm sorry, Harry. I've been a right git lately. I should have realized you were going through something." He shook his head. "You should have told me you had those… feelings."

"You heard me?" Harry asked, his heart stopping.

"Kinda hard not to. I came in to get you, since you were taking so long. Instead I heard the fight in here with Malfoy. I heard you say you wanted me." Ron looked away uncomfortably.

"Listen, Ron," Harry began, unsure of what to even say. "I don't… I mean, I do, but I don't have to… ah." What the hell should he say?

"Harry, it's okay. I promise." He was quiet for a second and then said, "Ever since I saw you that one night, on the couch… I don't know. I mean, I never thought of it before. I like women, you know? But that got me thinking. I couldn't get it out of my head. I couldn't get you out of my head."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked, and realized his voice was very small.

"I don't know. I don't even know what I feel about any of this. I know I feel like I need to be there for you right now, after what just happened. I know I love you as my best friend. What I don't know is if there's more there. I've been struggling, because it's wrong, you know? I shouldn't feel that way."

"Does that mean I'm wrong too?" Harry asked.

"No! No, that's not… ah." So Ron is just as bad at this as I am, Harry thought. "You're wonderful, Harry." Ron said, so suddenly and soft that Harry was unsure he'd heard properly.

Harry sat up slightly, Ron's arms still around him in his embrace. "What'd you say?" Harry asked.

Ron was quiet for a long time and avoided Harry's eyes. Then, he turned to Harry and said, "Oh hell." And leaned forward and pressed his lips against Harry's.

The kiss was amazing. Ron's lips caressed against his own, and their tongues danced together with a flame of passion that Harry had never felt with anyone else. Ron reached out and placed his hand on Harry's cheek. His touch was gentle. Unlike Malfoy's rough and angry hands, Ron's hands were soft and loving for his friend. Just like that, Harry's fantasy began to come true. Ron reached out and drew Harry's body closer, as their kissing continued.

Harry didn't know what any of this meant, and neither did Ron for that matter, but Harry didn't care. At that moment, Ron was his. At that moment, he had the most wonderful kiss.


End file.
